Moreover, the provocation to apply extreme measures really seemed
sufficient, regarded from a military point of view, and Captain
Farnsworth was himself, under ordinary circumstances, a
disciplinarian of the strictest class. The fascination, however,
by which Alice held him overbore every other influence, and his
devotion to her loosened every other tie and obligation to a most
dangerous extent. No sooner had he left headquarters and given
Barlow his instructions touching the hunting expedition, than his
mind began to wander amid visions and schemes by no means
consistent with his military obligations. In order to reflect
undisturbed he went forth into the dreary, lane-like streets of
Vincennes and walked aimlessly here and there until he met Father
Beret.
Farnsworth saluted the old man, and was passing him by, when
seeing a sword in his hand, half hidden in the folds of his worn
and faded cassock, he turned and addressed him.
"Why are you armed this morning, Father?" he demanded very
pleasantly. "Who is to suffer now?"
"I am not on the war-path, my son," replied the priest. "It is but
a rapier that I am going to clean of rust spots that are gathering
on its blade."
"Is it yours, Father? Let me see it." He held out his hand.
"No, not mine."
Father Beret seemed not to notice Farnsworth's desire to handle
the weapon, and the young man, instead of repeating his words,
reached farther, nearly grasping the scabbard.
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